by Ella Goode
“Because you shouldn’t win cases where you’re on the wrong side. When people make mistakes, you’re in the right. When you sue people for made-up things, you’re in the wrong. See how that works?”
“I sense that there is a logical argument impending and all I want to know is exactly how I’ve won, not the sad, crooked path I took to get the victory podium.” The doors slide open in front of my parking spot. I press the button on my keys and the gulf-wing doors of my Lambo swing up.
“Maple London has agreed to make one piece of jewelry for your mother. That’s what you’ve won. She wants to meet your mother so she can make the right piece for her.”
“Excellent. Let her know I’m on my way there right now.” I gun the throaty engine and roar up the ramp.
“In the event that you kill yourself in that death trap of yours, what should I tell your sister?”
“That she’s the best sister a man could have and I hope she and Mom spend every dime recklessly.” I pause at the exit and wait impatiently for the attendant to release the gate arm. “Actually, strike that. You’ll need to amend the will. Maple will have to get a third.”
Rebecca laughs.
“No. I’m serious.”
She stops immediately. “Oh no. You are serious. I can hear it in your voice. That’s the one you use when you want to buy someone’s company. I can’t change your will to include some random woman you met three days ago!”
“Only three days? I feel like it’s been longer.” I have been, quite literally, counting the hours until Rebecca’s call came through. To pass the time, I drove over to Maple’s neighborhood and sat in the coffee shop until they kicked me out. I spent enough on coffee I didn’t drink and muffins I didn’t eat to own the place by now. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. “Rebecca, there’s a coffee shop across the street from London’s place. Buy it.”
“Why? Do you plan to give it to her?” she says sarcastically.
“That’s not a bad idea but I’m going to need a good place to stalk her from if she doesn’t let me stay in her workshop so, no, make sure my sister gets the coffee shop. Maple can have the Joan of Arc painting by Lepage. She’d like that.”
“That’s worth around ten million!” Rebecca sounds near tears. “You just met her. Can we hold off on giving your priceless art away to near strangers?”
Who knew my lawyer had so many theatrics in her? Although, being a lawyer is sort of like a con job so I guess it makes sense. “I’m marrying this woman,” I say and zip in behind a cop I know. He flashes his lights in acknowledgement and gestures for me to follow him. Sometimes being the former commish’s son pays off. The cop turns on his sirens and starts speeding. I follow, tailing him close behind. It’s the only way I’m making it over the bridge within the next hour.
“I want to say you’re kidding but I know you’re not.” She’s finally turned the corner from astonished to resigned. “I’m drawing up a prenup in case you come to your senses.”
“I won’t need it. I hope to be sick in love for the rest of my life,” I reply cheerfully before hanging up. Once across the bridge, I wave thanks to my police escort and speed up the street toward Maple’s. I knew Rebecca would come through for me. There’s no line outside of Maple’s shop today. According to the baristas, the shop is only open on Tuesdays. I pull up in front of the store, park and hop out. A couple of kids on skateboards almost crash as they roll by the car. I give them a hundred bucks to watch the vehicle for me before making my way down the alley to the side door where I know the entrance to the workshop is located.
There’s no doorbell or intercom system so I settle for banging my fist against the steel structure. It’s five long, torturous minutes before the door finally opens. Wearing a pair of cute spectacles at the end of her nose, Maple sticks her face out. “Oh.” She blinks owlishly as if she just woke up. “It’s you.”
“Didn’t my lawyer call you?”
She shakes her head. “I was working and didn’t hear the phone ring.”
“Get your stuff. I’m taking you to meet my mother.”
“Meet your mother?” Maple’s confused.
I cup her arm and pull her out into the alley. “That’s right. It’s customary for a new bride to meet the parents of her beloved before the wedding. My dad’s an asshole so we’ll skip him, but my mom’s a good egg.”
“Did you say wedding?”
“I sure did.” I wink at her and start walking. It’ll all come together for her soon enough.
Chapter 10
Maple
“How did I get here?” I mumble to myself as Major drives at a snail's pace. He has this fancy-looking fast car, yet he’s driving it as if it were his first time and he’s nervous.
“My mother. You need to meet her,” he reminds me. That was one of my stipulations when I finally gave in to Major’s stupid lawsuit. To be honest, I’d actually given in before I’d even left his building. I knew he was right. A legal battle with him and his deep pockets could take years. I have no doubt that I would win in the end but would it be worth the victory? No, time is more precious than anything. It took days to get my brother to finally call in our settlement agreement. He hadn't wanted to give in but I’d worn him down with the help of Levi. Both of us reminded him that we all have better things to do than have a legal battle with a Bennington. I think me mentioning the planning of his upcoming nuptials may have been the thing that finally did it. Speaking of a wedding, I need to clarify what the hell Major Bennington is talking about.
“Am I meeting a bride too?” I ask, confused. No sooner had my brother called in the settlement than Major was at my shop manhandling me into his fancy sports car that for some reason isn't fast at all. My body unwillingly heats thinking about him handling it. I shouldn’t like it because he’s pushy and arrogant. He’s adorable while he does it which is the part that softens me toward him. I wanted to smack his hand away when he guided me from my shop into his car but I only leaned into his touch going wherever he led without a fight. So to answer my own question, that’s how I’ve found myself in this predicament.
“You’ve met the bride,” he answers, glancing over while winking one of those emerald colored eyes at me. Either I’m crazy or none of what he’s saying is making sense. With each answer he gives my confusion grows. Okay, I can do this. I’ll simply meet his mother then I’ll craft the necklace and Major will be out of my life. The faster we get on with it, the faster I can get away from him and all the crazy things he makes me feel. I have to remind myself for the millionth time that I’m not attracted to him. Even if he’s ruled my every thought since I met him.
“For a sports car this thing goes slow,” I huff. I mean, I could walk to where we’re going quicker. It’s funny how when I’m working I have all the patience in the world but put me in a slow moving vehicle and I’m ready to lose it. It must be my urgency to get away from him that has me on edge.
“Precious cargo,” he tells me, his tone serious for once.
“You don’t have to sweet-talk me. I already agreed to make the necklace.” I sigh, leaning back in the seat. It’s actually rather comfortable. I look out the window so I don’t stare at him because that’s what I want to do. He’s still too damn handsome for his own good. For anyone's good, in fact.
“Would you rather I dirty-talk you?” I jerk my gaze back to him. He’s got a playful smile on his face and I don’t know if he’s messing with me or if he’s serious. Again, my body heats. I clench my legs together and pray my cheeks don’t show how I’m feeling on the inside. I doubt I'm that lucky. Gavin always said I’d never make it as a lawyer. My poker face is really crappy. I let every emotion show.
“I’d rather you not talk at all,” I say tartly.
“There are other things I can do with my mouth.” His eyes flick over me before they go back to the road. He’s baiting me and I’m not going fishing, so I change the subject instead.
“What’s with all the talk of a bride? Who is she? It is my
understanding that I am making a necklace for your mother. So I’ll need you to clarify.”
“For my bride.” He pulls off the highway into a fancy neighborhood. This time I feel my cheeks heat with annoyance.
“Major,” I snap. Even I’m surprised at my own tone.
He jerks the car over to the side of the road, throwing it into park. “Are you okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“No.” I throw my hands up in frustration before I unclick the seat belt. I try and open the door but can’t find the handle. “What is wrong with this car?” I half shout. “Let me out.” I’m flustered and don’t know what is wrong with me. It’s him. He does something to me and being this close to him for so long in a small space isn't helping. “Are you getting married?” I blurt out. There it is. That is what has me out of sorts. First he was wearing a fake wedding ring and now he’s getting married? Was he going to try and make me do a ring for him too? That would be a battle that I’m willing to fight him over in court.
“Yes.” His hand lands on my thigh. I stop my search for the door handle to look at him. Our eyes meet.
I’ve never been a violent person but in this moment I want to smack his handsome face. My hands fly up in frustration. “So you lied. Again.” I know that I’m not only angry because of this lie but the fact that I’m jealous. This is why I don’t make pieces for people like Major Bennington. They’re entitled pricks and I walked straight into his little game. I turn my face to look out the window. “Get your damn hand off of my leg while you’re at it.” I take a few deep breaths in before I look back over at him.
“I didn’t lie,” he growls out. “You and I will be getting married the minute you stop being so difficult and agree to be mine forever.”
My mouth drops open in shock. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry or start planning a wedding because there is no way I’ll be able to resist Major Bennington for long. Even if he is a little bit crazy.
Chapter 11
Major
“I thought this was an apartment building,” Maple gapes. Her eyes flit from the black and white marble tiles in the entry to the fresco painted ceiling featuring barely clothed cherubs frolicking among the bushes.
“Mom’s family came from railroad money,” I explain. “That’s the kind of stupid money that outlasts generations of bad marriages and spendthrifts so that you can keep houses like these in the family. If you like it, we can live here after we’re married. At last count, there were ten bedrooms, although Mom might have turned one of them into an aviary. She was talking about getting birds last time we spoke.” I tuck Maple’s hand into the crook of my elbow. “Where’s Mom?” I ask Jon, the housekeeper standing at strict attention.
“In the orangery, sir.”
Maple waits until Jon is out of sight before whispering, “He calls you sir?”
“Yeah, unfortunately. He belongs to some butler's association and I think his wingtips get crushed if they find out he’s breached some unwritten rule of etiquette. You’ve got to live with it. It’s one of the downsides. But there are plenty of positives. Like if you have a craving for some caviar and crackers that you can only get down at the market in the meatpacking district, Jon will drive down personally and get it for you. It’s not all bad. If there are things you don’t like, you can change them after we’re married.”
“You have to stop saying that,” she hisses.
“What? That you can change things? I mean, you don’t have to. I’m not imposing any rules once we’re married other than if you look at another man I’ll kill him, but that’s not really a rule, more of a suggestion. Not me killing him. I’m absolutely doing that but as long as you don’t mind a few bodies littering the walkway behind you, I don’t mind either.” I admit this in a mild tone, but, truthfully, I’d happily murder any penis that got within a mile of her. I’d even do away with her brother if I thought she wouldn’t mind. Sadly I think she cares a lot about the uptight attorney so I’ll have to let him keep breathing. The sacrifices I make for her are already piling up. I guess that’s the meaning of true love.
“No, the marriage thing,” she wails. “We’re not getting married.”
“I suppose if you look at it from your point of view, maybe not, but from mine, we are.” I push open the doors to the orangery and escort a frustrated Maple into the glassed-in room. It’s a beautiful enough sight that Maple forgets what she was arguing about.
“Oh my. This is an orangery? It’s gorgeous.” She floats over to one of the forty orange trees in the room and strokes a leaf.
“Is that you, Major?” I hear a voice calling me.
“Yup and I’ve brought you a present.” I gesture for Maple to come close. Reluctantly she peels herself away from the foliage and joins me. “Mom, let me present Maple London, your soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”
Mom’s wheelchair comes to a stop at my words. She clasps her hands to her chest and cries, “Maple London? Daughter-in-law? I didn’t realize I’d raised my son to have perfect taste. Come here! Come here!” She waves her fingers in Maple’s direction.
Maple stands in stunned silence so I have to nudge her forward. She gives me a dirty look before crossing to my mother. “Mrs. Bennington, there’s been some misunderstanding here.”
As soon as Maple is within touching distance, Mom grabs her hand. “With Major, there always is. Please come and sit down and tell me all about it. Is it over the cake? He has terrible taste in desserts. Really, terrible taste in everything. I mean, look at him in that awful work uniform. It’s so stuffy, isn’t it? And have you been to that office? My chakras die every time I step into that cold building.” She shudders as if the glass and steel literally cuts into her bones.
“It is pretty terrible,” Maple admits. “I wouldn’t be able to create a thing, but this place”—she swings her arm around—"I can feel the creative energy in the floor.”
Mom leans forward. “I’m fairly sure that this house was built on a ley line. Do you know what that is, dear?”
“Sure. It’s a spiritual line that can generate power.” Maple shakes her head then and tries to regain control over the conversation. “Your house is beautiful and your garden is amazing but I am not really your son’s fiancée. He’s joking.” She sends me a killing glare. “I’m here to talk to you about the necklace that you would like.”
“You’re making me a necklace?” Mom cries.
“To wear to our wedding,” I helpfully add.
“We just met!” Maple explodes. “We just met and I’m only making this necklace because your son sued me. We are not getting married. Not now and not in the future.”
Her eyes are wide and wild. Her cheeks are flushed with anger. Her small, talented hands are splayed wide. In her yoga pants and T-shirt, she looks more beautiful than any woman has a right to be. It’s odd how you don’t know that your life is missing something until that necessary piece is thrown at your face. I didn’t believe in fate or destiny before, but, now, having met Maple and knowing in an instant that this is the woman who I’m going to have by my side until I draw my very last breath, I figure that there must be a higher power somewhere.
“Is this true, Major?”
Without taking my eyes off of Maple, I approach slowly, cautiously, as if she’s a wary fawn ready to bolt for the woods at the first sign of danger. “It’s true that we just met. It’s true she is making a necklace because I sued her. The rest of it is not true. We are getting married. She will be the mother of your grandchildren. I am going to be the happiest man on the planet in a week’s time.”
“Well,” my mother huffs. “A week.”
Maple nods, feeling justified that someone is finally taking her side. “Like I said. This is outrageous.”
“It certainly is. I have no idea how I’m going to plan a wedding in a week.”
Chapter 12
Maple
What the f—?! I stand with my mouth slightly agape in shock. I look back and forth between Major and his mom. I must b
e in a mental institution because everyone here besides me is insane. I start to say something but I can’t seem to form any words. I sneak another glance at Major and I can see the slight smirk that he’s wearing after hearing his mother’s reply. It’s his victory smile. The same one he wore when he knocked on my door an hour ago after I’d agreed to all of this craziness. I just hadn’t realized what I’d bargained for. I also didn’t account for his mother being so darn, adorably sweet. I try and push on even if I don’t really want to tell her no.
“I’m sorry again, Mrs. Bennington, but there really has been a misunderstanding,” I repeat, to clarify things for her in case she misunderstood me the first time. She simply squeezes my hand. She looks over to Bennington with a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. One that a proud mother wears when their child does something extraordinary. I take a deep breath in to get my wits about me.
“Why don’t you finish showing me around?” I suggest to her in order to redirect our entire conversation. “It will help me in making the necklace for you, Mrs. Bennington.” I just won't talk about this marriage nonsense anymore and maybe they’ll all forget. I’ll get what I need to make the necklace and be done. Then I won’t have to face Mrs. Bennington again and tell her no again.
“No reason to be so formal, Maple. You can call me Mom.” I don’t even need to look in Major’s direction to know he has a stupid smile on his face. The man wins at everything! I glance over at him anyway to give him the meanest facial expression that I’ve ever given to another human. How the hell am I supposed to create under these crazy conditions? Mrs. Bennington breaks our stare off as she pushes herself past us. I follow, not wanting to be rude—and I really do want to see more of this breathtaking home. It is extraordinary and I can feel the life pulsing through it.
